


The Siren

by Ernmark (M_Moonshade)



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Juno is a sailor, M/M, Peter is a siren, merman au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 06:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16781446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_Moonshade/pseuds/Ernmark
Summary: Juno knows that the proper way to deal with sirens is to not pay them any attention.Not even when they're sunning themselves on the deck of his ship.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> eyecandybutts asked:
> 
> Uhm what do you think about,, merman au? or just any kind of sea critter-man au? It's a bit main stream au, but i feel like merman Peter will be a real gorgeous looking fish that catches Juno's eye or human Peter find that this scar filled merman (Juno) is the most... eye-catching being he ever lay his eyes on. Maybe??

“This isn’t funny.” Juno doesn’t have to turn around. He’s already spotted the flash of brilliant green scales on the ship’s bow. 

“Isn’t it? I happen to find it hilarious.”

That goddamn fin is flicking droplets of water at him just to make him turn around, and he isn’t going to do it. He isn’t even going to pretend to humor the coldblooded fish. Because that’s exactly what the goddamn merman wants, and Juno isn’t having it. Not today.

There are ways of dealing with him, of course. If he drops gold coins into the water, the merman will dive to retrieve them (but only gold; the fish has standards, after all). If Juno tries to come at him with a harpoon, the merman will disappear under the waves and lead him on a nice long chase that inevitably ends on a rocky shoal. 

Or…

Or Juno could always jump overboard and let the merman pull him under the waves himself. Give him what he wants, but take all the fun out of his little game. Juno can’t say he isn’t tempted. 

But that’s probably because he’s being stalked by a goddamn _siren_.

Juno works on adjusting the sail. “Don’t you have some _other_ sailors to eat or something?”

The merman laughs. It’s an awful, infuriating laugh– all bubbly and smooth and so charming it makes Juno swoon a little bit just to hear it. Which means it’s obviously a trap, which means it’s terrible. “Of course I do. But they don’t make for nearly as good a conversation as you. A pity, really.” 

“You sure about that?” Juno sneers. “Maybe you should try giving them another shot and _leave me the hell alone_.”

He only says it because he knows it’ll make the merman laugh again. At least when the goddamn fish is tormenting him, he’s not out eating other innocent people. 

“And leave you out here by yourself without even your darling little navigator to keep you company? I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

At the moment, Rita’s on shore leave, visiting her sick aunt. It’s probably for the best, too– when the siren comes around, she somehow gets even more weak-kneed than Juno does. 

“So come now, brave captain,” the siren continues, ignoring the fact that he’s being ignored. “What important mission is it that has you out here all alone?”

“Maybe I’m hunting mermen.”

Another peal of laughter makes Juno’s heart skip a beat. God damn. “But really. What is it you’re chasing today? Go on, regale me.” 

Juno rolls his eyes and returns to the wheel, unlocking it from its fixed position. “Old Croesus’ daughter ran off again. He wants me to talk some sense into her and bring her back.”

“Croesus, hm? Of the Kanagawa company, I take it.” The merman flips his tail, bringing him closer. “So which is it? Are you going to talk sense into the girl, or are you going to bring her back? It seems to me you can’t reasonably do both.”

“Don’t remind me,” Juno says with a grimace. “I’ll think of something when I get there.”

Juno pulls out a compass and corrects his course. Between the needle and his own charts, he can steer the ship just fine without having to turn his eyes toward the beautiful man sunning himself on the bow. 

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t notice the storm clouds on the horizon.

* * *

It’s not the siren who pulls Juno under, but the sea itself. One minute he’s wrestling the sails and the next he’s swept overboard by a wave so massive it might as well be the hand of God. 

The first impact with the water is enough to force the air from his lungs, but then he’s smashed against the ship’s hull a few times, just to wring the last desperate bubbles out of him. He’s whirled end over end, pulled this way and that, his clothes catching the thrashing currents like sails. 

He kicks off his boots, his socks, his trousers, his shirt. They float around him for a moment before they’re ripped away by the force of the storm, looking eerily like ghosts being dragged down to Tartarus. 

His limbs are numb but his lungs are burning. He needs air. He needs to find the surface. But all around him there’s nothing but black, churning water in every direction, forever and ever. 

There’s no escape from this, is there? He’s going to die down here.

He stops fighting it. Reaches out to embrace what’s coming.

What he finds is… a hand. Long, slender, and cold as the hand of death, but less skeletal than he expected. And there’s webbing between the fingers.

The hand slides up Juno’s arm and wraps around his chest. He still can’t see, but he can feel another body bracing against his. He can feel scales sliding against his thighs, the thin membrane of a tail fin brushing his feet. And then, all at once, the cold shock as his head breaks the surface. He spits and sputters, gasping for breath while the waves crash over him all over again. 

Instinctively he clings to the only solid thing around him– in this case, the siren who’s keeping him afloat. 

A webbed hand rubs his back. “Shh, Juno. It’s alright. I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

He’s too dizzy to make sense of anything else. Juno tries to help swim, but his limbs feel like they’re made of lead, and he thinks he’s probably hurting more than helping right now. Vaguely he’s aware of moving, but he couldn’t begin to guess which direction they’re going– only that he can’t see his ship. He can’t see anything but the siren’s face and shoulders bobbing over the water as he swims. 

Juno always knew that face was beautiful– that’s why he never trusted himself to look at it for long– but now that he has no choice but to trust the siren, he lets himself drink in the sight. The siren is lean, his features fine and angular, his eyes impossibly bright. His teeth are sharp. Predator’s teeth, but at the moment, they’re clenched in exertion as he struggles to keep moving.

How long has it been? How long have they been going on like this?

Juno wants to ask, but before he can form the words he feels sand against his feet. 

The siren drags him to the shallows before he lets him go. Juno staggers, but his legs carry him past the tidepools and crashing waves. He gets as far as the treeline before he collapses.

* * *

Juno wakes up sore, hoarse, and sunburnt, but miraculously alive. He drags himself further inland to find something to eat– wild fruit, mostly, and a coconut whose sweet juices soothe his raw throat. Once the necessities of survival are seen to, he returns to the water’s edge. There’s an outcropping of rocks that plunge past the shallows, where the water is calmer than right at the shore. 

He climbs as far out as he dares and settles on a rock that’s low enough that he can soak his legs in the lapping water. 

“Hello?” he calls, but it doesn’t carry far. His voice is hoarse from drowning. “Are you there?”

He doesn’t get an answer right away, but it does come. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> deathtothecrows asked:I would like to ask if you could maybe write more of that mermaid AU you started a while back? If not I get it, but still. I'm sure I'm not the only one. Actually I'm not sure of anything at all. Ever. Have fun!

It’s been two days since the storm that capsized his ship. Two days since he almost died. Two days since the siren saved his sorry ass and hauled him to this island.

Juno’s spent most of that time sleeping– as it turns out, drowning does a real number on a lady– and when he’s not sleeping, he’s foraging for food.

That part’s simple enough, at least. The island has a nice supply of fresh fruit, and between the coconuts and the freshwater spring further inland he’s got plenty to drink. If he craves something a bit more meaty, his rescuer has offered to catch him fish for dinner.

This is probably the perfect place to be marooned, less like a desert island and more like a tropical paradise. It would have been too perfect, in fact, if he’d landed here by random chance.

But chance had nothing to do with it.

Juno has no idea where he is now, but he knows roughly where he was when his ship went down, and there must have been half a dozen sand bars and atolls that were closer than this island. Sure, food and fresh water might have been tricky, but at least he would have been fairly visible to passing ships. 

Haven’t been any of those around, not that he’s seen anyway. 

He’d be an idiot if that didn’t make him at least a little bit suspicious. A few days ago, he was sure the siren wanted to kill and eat him. Sure, saving him from drowning goes a bit counter to that, but it doesn’t mean the siren is suddenly trustworthy. Maybe he’s planning to watch Juno slowly lose his mind from isolation. Maybe he plans to keep Juno as some kind of deranged pet. Maybe he’s just saving him until he needs a snack.

Whatever he’s planning, Juno isn’t going to figure it out any faster if he stays away from the water. So he ventures out to the rocky outcropping and he investigates. 

* * *

“So.” Juno’s legs dip in the cool water. “Do you have a name? 

“Oh, what’s in a name? We’re all but shapes moving through this void of ours, it so great, and we so small…”

 _Melodramatic little shit._ “Do sirens even use names?” 

The siren chuckles, and Juno has to fight the urge to join him in the water. “Of course we do. But I don’t tell anyone my name. It would take someone very special for me to tell it now.” 

Of course. Juno should have known–

“It’s Peter.” The siren grins, and suddenly he’s entirely too close and flashing those sharp teeth like an invitation. 

Juno tries not to get flustered. He tries really, really hard. The siren is laughing again– probably at the look on his face– and that sound is damn near irresistible. It would be so easy to scoot forward another few inches and slide into the sea. The cool water would be so soothing against his sunburnt back. 

His hands tighten around the edge of the outcropping. “Peter, huh?”

“And what about you?” asks the siren, still entirely too close. “Do you prefer Juno? Or Captain Steel? Or… what was it the Kanagawa boy called you?”

“Juno is fine,” he says quickly. The last thing he needs is for the siren to start calling him ‘Junebug’. ‘Captain Steel’ is just as embarrassing, but mostly because of the shiver that runs down his spine when he hears Peter say it. 


End file.
